Wesal always asks me to add my words to her posts, because she thinks that I am better at explaining the situation to you all, since I am in command of the English language. She fears that her emotions aren't adequately communicated when she writes her words and then translates them.
I heartily disagree, which she knows because I tell her so with the honesty and candidness I think I am known for, and I think you will disagree as well.
Here is what she said to me today:
"My little girl is no longer as light as she once was, as she appears to you. She's grown into a young woman, and quite heavy; my back aches when I carry her.
She used to be so light, as if I were holding a piece of my heart in my arms. But today, she's grown up and is too heavy to bear without bending.
But the truth that no one sees ā¦ what weighs me down isn't her weight, but my fear for her, the weariness of years, and the sorrow of a mother watching her daughter grow up before her eyes while she can't give her the life she deserves.
Her body has grown, and my weariness has grown with it. But in my eyes, she will always be my little girl, the one I fear to put down, lest I find I can no longer hold her."
Does that not say everything more clearly than I possibly could? Are these words not heartbreaking and the most sincere? Do they not speak of the exhaustion and fear of the mother of a disabled child, and her eternal love for her as well?
But of course I will happily add my words. I know Farah's condition well, because Wesal and I speak almost every day. Farah is currently suffering from hypokalaemia, or potassium deficiency. This is because her potassium supplements have been unavailable for months now. She receives urgent care at the hospital when her potassium levels dip too low, which has happened several times in the last month. But they can only do so much.
One symptom of potassium deficiency is muscle paralysis and muscle cramps. Farah experiences these in her legs when her potassium levels are too low. This means she has difficulty walking, and must be carried instead. But she is sixteen years old now. Carrying a teenager is very different from carrying a young child.
So yes. Farah needs a wheelchair. Wesal needs a wheelchair for her daughter and for her own health. Both mother and daughter deserve this, the dignity as well as safety that would come with being able to transport Farah to the hospital and back.
She cannot carry Farah on her own. She shouldn't. Let's help her.
Farah's fundraiser is vetted by gazavetters, #451. I am the organiser of this campaign. If anyone has any questions about how the money gets to Wesal, I will happily answer them.
